I Still Feel So Guilty About What I Did to My Best Friend

Okay, here goes nothing. I've been carrying this around for, like, fifteen years, maybe longer. I need to get it out. I hope this website is the right place. I don't know where else to go.

Her name was Sarah. Sarah and I were inseparable from middle school all the way through the first couple years of college. We did everything together. Sleepovers every weekend, shared clothes, same classes, even tried out for the cheerleading squad together (we both sucked, thankfully). We told each other everything. Or at least, I thought we did.

I was always a little jealous of Sarah. Not in a mean way, I don't think. But she was just…effortlessly good at everything. She was naturally pretty, like the kind of pretty where she didn't even have to try. She always got good grades without seeming to study that much. And guys were always falling all over themselves to get her attention. I was…not any of those things. I had to work hard for everything I got, and I always felt like I was living in her shadow. I know that sounds pathetic, but it's the truth.

Then Mark came along. Mark was…well, he was exactly the kind of guy I always dreamed about. Funny, smart, kind, and ridiculously good-looking. He was a year older than us, and he was a senior when we were sophomores in college. He was everything. And he started paying attention to me.

I couldn't believe it. I remember the first time he smiled at me across the student union. My heart literally stopped. I was so awkward and clumsy around him. I kept tripping over my own feet and saying stupid things. But he seemed to find it endearing. He asked me out, and I almost fainted.

We started dating, and it was like a dream. He was everything I ever wanted. He made me feel special, like I was the only girl in the world. But there was this little voice in the back of my head, whispering that it was all too good to be true. And that I didn't deserve him.

Sarah was happy for me, or at least, she seemed to be. She was always supportive and told me how great Mark was. But I could see it in her eyes, just a tiny flicker of something…I don't know, maybe disappointment? Maybe I was just imagining it. I wanted her to be happy for me, truly happy. But a part of me also liked that, for once, I had something she didn't.

This is where I messed up. Badly. Mark and I had been dating for a few months, and things were getting serious. We were spending all our time together, and I was completely head over heels in love. Then one night, after a party, he walked me back to my dorm. We were standing outside my door, and he kissed me. It was…amazing. He started to get a little handsy, and I didn't stop him. We ended up sleeping together that night. It was my first time.

The next morning, I felt…awful. Not because of the sex itself. It was fine, I guess. But because I knew that Sarah had a crush on him. A huge one. She had told me, months before I even started dating him, that she thought he was the most amazing guy ever. I had completely forgotten about it until that moment. And I knew, deep down, that I had betrayed her.

I didn't tell her. I couldn't. I was too afraid of losing her friendship. And I was too afraid of losing Mark. So I kept it a secret. I pretended everything was fine. We went on with our lives, Sarah and I, still best friends, still sharing everything…except this huge, ugly secret that was festering inside me.

It ate away at me for months. I felt like a terrible person. I would have nightmares about Sarah finding out, about her hating me. But I still didn't say anything. I justified it to myself. I told myself that it was just one time, that it didn't mean anything. That Sarah would never have found out anyway.

Then, Mark broke up with me. Out of the blue. He said he wasn't ready for a serious relationship. I was devastated. I cried for days. Sarah was there for me, of course. She held my hand, listened to me sob, and told me that I would get over it. She was the best friend anyone could ask for.

And that's when I finally broke down. I told her everything. I told her about the night we slept together, about how I knew she had a crush on him, about how guilty I felt. I expected her to scream at me, to slap me, to tell me that she never wanted to see me again. And honestly, I would have deserved it.

But she didn't. She just looked at me, with this sad, disappointed look in her eyes. She didn't say anything for a long time. Then she just said, "I knew it."

I asked her what she meant. She said that she had suspected something had happened between Mark and me. She could tell by the way we acted around each other. She just didn't want to believe it. She didn't want to believe that I would do that to her.

We didn't talk for a long time after that. Things were never the same between us. We drifted apart. Eventually, we stopped talking altogether. I moved to a different state after college, and we lost touch. I heard through mutual friends that she got married and had kids. I'm happy for her, I really am. But I still feel this…ache, this emptiness, knowing that I ruined our friendship.

I know it was a long time ago. I know that I can't change the past. But the guilt is still there, nagging at me. I wish I could go back and do things differently. I wish I had been a better friend. I wish I had just been honest with her from the beginning.

I don't know why I'm writing this now, after all these years. Maybe I just needed to finally say it out loud. Maybe I'm hoping that somehow, she'll see this and know how sorry I am. Maybe I'm just trying to forgive myself. I don't know.

I miss her. I miss our friendship. And I'll always regret what I did.

I hope she's doing okay.

Thanks for listening, if anyone is actually reading this. I feel a tiny bit lighter now.